Soliloquy
by Kitten Kisses
Summary: FE7, post-game.  Warning: This 'fic contains alcoholism.  Kent, Lyndis, Sain. Complete.
1. Shatter

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

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**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter One: "Shatter"**

Perhaps the first time had been nothing but an accident. Chancellor Reissmann had long ago warned her that her illiteracy would someday get her into trouble, and though no trouble had come of that particular incident, a hangover had.

The war had come as something of a reprieve to her, a chance to get away from lessons on matters that she felt were far above her, and of manners she sometimes felt incapable of learning. That freedom was short-lived, and upon the sealing of the Dragon's Gate, she had returned to Caelin again—to the side of her ill grandfather, and to the learning of things she had never cared about.

But she held her head up and tried, for the sake of those she cared about. Maybe, she thought to herself night after night, she could lead Caelin successfully. Though she hadn't fully convinced herself, she learned to read and write, and to listen to the affairs of those who came to ask for her ruling. She made sense of the silverware, and of the knights posted outside her door every evening.

When Lord Hausen died, the entire canton mourned, but none so much as Lady Lyndis. She had hoped, however foolishly, that he would get better and take his rightful place again.

Her workload doubled, and if she had even a moment to spare, she had to use it to catch her breath instead of spending it as she chose. No longer did she have time to visit with Florina, or shove parchments at Wil, or tease Kent and Sain. No, she had documents to sign with her shaky, uneven signature, and the disputes of villagefolk to settle.

Months passed in this way, and she thought to herself that if she was given even five minutes alone with any one of her friends, that she might burst into tears, just as she had when she'd found Mark, all those years ago. Loneliness, she had thought, then, so naïvely, was something one only felt when physically alone, but she had come to realize that it could be something else entirely, that, even when surrounded by people, she could miss something as simple as a kind word or a touch upon her arm.

The second time had not been an accident. Though her ability to read was not as it should have been, she knew what was in the bottle when she took it. Her shawl concealed it so thoroughly that, even when she passed Sain in the corridor, he did not suspect anything. She had smiled at him, and he had smiled back; it was all that they had time for, and nothing hurt her more than to know that.

The hangover the next day had been worth one evening's respite, and, for the year that followed, she found herself visiting the castle cellar with more and more frequency. In her bedroom, she would find herself standing by the window as she held the bottle to her lips and watched the quiet even outside. It was under control, she told herself again and again. She needed to get away, just for a little while, just for a night. She would be better in the morning. Softly, she would sing songs to herself that nobody else knew, that people like Chancellor Reissmann and Eliwood and Hector would not understand.

But they brought her comfort, and she sang them to herself, the words slurring together as she swayed to music that refused to play, until she sank to the floor an exhausted, tearful mess.

**…-…-…**

The fact that something was wrong had not escaped Kent's notice. Lady though she was, Lyn's face had paled and she had grown thinner in the weeks and months following her grandfather's death. It had not come as a surprise to anyone—it was no secret within the castle walls that Lyndis had loved Lord Hausen dearly—but he felt a sort of pain in his chest every time he saw her.

She was stubborn and willful, and Wil had said, once, that if Lady Lyndis did not want to be there, she would have left long ago.

But he knew deep down that she had never wanted to take over Caelin. She'd said, many years ago, that she had no interest in claiming any title, and he doubted she had changed her mind completely on the matter.

All too well he understood what it felt like to feel responsible for something, and there was no doubt in his mind that his lady liege felt responsible for Caelin, just as he felt responsible for her. Her grandfather had wanted her to have it, after all, and he was the only family she had left. Could she drop all of her responsibilities with a clean conscience? She had always wanted nothing more than to please him.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Part 1/12.**  
**


	2. Responsibilities

**Soliloquy****  
By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Two: "Responsibilities"**

"What," Sain asked one evening, "do you think is wrong with her?"

Kent did not say that he had wondered if she had been poisoned, and following that thought, he had done many searches that had turned up absolutely nothing. He did not say that he thought perhaps she was homesick, or any of the other things he knew could not be helped.

Instead, he looked up from the report he was working on, and regarded his longtime friend with a solemn expression. "You know as well as I do that her responsibilities are more than both of ours combined." He dipped his quill into the bottle of ink before the tip could dry. "I imagine she is overwhelmed."

Sain nodded, but did not look wholly convinced. "She never has even a moment to herself," he said aloud, though his words were soft, and Kent wondered if he was talking to himself. "I don't know what I would do if I did not even have that to break the monotony."

**…-…-…**

Stumbling across Lyn's secret had been an accident.

Sain wanted some carrots for his horse, and Kent had gone along for no real reason at all; perhaps he would take one for his own horse, who had not been properly exercised in weeks.

A quiet sound caught his attention, and while Sain went to the vegetable bins in the pantry, he followed the sound to the cellar, and watched from the open floor as a figure pulled a bottle from the rack.

Nobody would miss one bottle here and there, he thought to himself, but if it was one of the staff, or one of his own men taking it, they would surely regret their action later.

He backed away from the cellar door and waited to see who would leave with a bottle in hand.

To his surprise and horror, it was Lady Lyndis he saw, and the small lump beneath her cloak did not escape his notice. He found that he could not confront her; despite the many questions running through his mind, he did not dare to approach her. He stayed hidden by the spice racks, and managed to do nothing more than twitch his nose as the smells of ginger and nutmeg tickled at his nostrils.

After her departure, he stepped out and met Sain, who was holding a few of his chosen vegetables by their leafy tops.

**…-…-…**

"Did you see?" the sub-commander asked Kent as he held out a carrot for his horse to take. The animal chomped down greedily, its long teeth easily cutting through the crunchy vegetable. He turned to his friend. "I noticed that sometimes she walks to her room in the evening with something hidden under her shawl or a cloak, but I have never stopped to ask her what it was."

"And a good thing, too," Kent said quietly, his thoughts jumping around almost as much as his heart. He had never been quite so confused or worried, before. "I could not see from which rack she took the bottle, but—"

"_Alcohol_?" Sain asked incredulously. "I would never have thought our lovely lady liege to have taken to drinking!"

"Quiet!" He worried that a stablehand would hear them, and it would only take a few hours for irreversible damage to be done to Lyn's reputation. "We don't know that."

"But Kent," Sain told him gently. "My boon companion. My close, old friend… If she took the bottle, even you must realize that she intends to drink it."

"Maybe only a little," he defended. "To help her sleep."

"I do not think she needs assistance with that. Don't you think that as tired as she looks all the time, that sleep would come easily?"

Sain had a point, but Kent did not want to believe it. "Maybe it's only happened a few times," he tried, but he didn't believe it himself.

"Should we confront her?" Sain asked.

But Kent didn't have an answer to that question.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Part 2/12. Notes will be posted after the story is complete.**  
**


	3. Avoidance

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Three: "Avoidance"**

It was only a couple of times a week, but Lyn worried that without those days, she would lose her sanity.

If one thing bothered her, it was that she had to pass people she knew in the hallways. She felt deceitful with the cold glass bottle pressed against her, and her shawl or cloak slung over her arm to hide it.

Wil never said anything to her about it, and Heath didn't speak to her much to begin with. Florina did not notice the small bulge in the thick materials of her cloak, because she had long ago gone to Ostia.

There came a time, though, when she realized she was seeing Kent and Sain more frequently in the evenings; every time she walked back to her room, she was guaranteed to run into at least one of them.

So she changed her route, and some nights, she stayed up later than normal to wait to make her trip to the kitchen. Sometimes she stopped in rooms that were not her own to avoid the changing of the guard.

Even though she needed it, she knew that if they caught her with it, they would hate her for it, or worse…they would try to take it from her.

**…-…-…**

It was during a late night patrol when Sain noticed the small form of his liege walking down the corridor coming toward him. She seemed surprised to see him—which did not surprise him, as both he and Kent had noticed her deliberate change of route to avoid them—and he graced her with as gentle a smile as he could muster before his eyes turned to the shawl over her arm.

"Good evening, Sain," she said, but her voice no longer had the spirit that it once had, and it came out sounding unconvincing.

"Milady," he said after a moment. "May I see what it is you're carrying?"

Like Kent, Sain wanted to believe that Lyndis didn't often drink—that it was very rarely done. That she needed a few sips to help her to sleep, or to warm her. But deep down, both of them knew that that was not the case. That there had to be more to it.

Her eyes widened, and she took a step back. "Why?" she asked, and her words were only a light whisper of air.

Sain closed the distance between them, and even though she tried to turn away from him, he took hold of her and forced the shawl to the floor. To his disappointment, a glass bottle was in her hand.

Her knuckles were white from the pressure, and she pulled it to herself. "Don't touch me again," she said, and her voice was shaking. She watched him with wary eyes as she bent to retrieve her shawl and used it to shield her drink. "You don't understand. You can't possibly understand." She hurried away from him.

And he watched her go, not knowing what else to say.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

I apologize for the delay. Part 3/12.**  
**


	4. Selfishness

**Soliloquy****  
By: Manna

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**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter Four: "Selfishness"**

The redheaded knight commander shook when Sain delivered the news to him. Sain couldn't be sure if it was from horror or anger—it could be from any number of things.

"Why?" he finally asked, a hand going to his head to rake through his hair. "Why would she do that?"

"I don't know any more than you do," Sain replied. "She was right, though: I don't understand."

Kent sighed and let his forehead rest against the palms of his hands. "Sain," he confided. " I have never wanted to do harm to any woman, least of all Lady Lyndis." His fingers pulled at his hair again, leaving it a tousled mess. "But," he continued, peering up at his friend, "I want nothing more than to take her by the shoulders this moment and shake her very hard."

Sain did not know what to say to that. He only blinked and took a seat on the edge of the bed before saying, "I think I know why you would say it, but Kent, please don't ever do it. You would probably set her to drinking more."

"I wouldn't do it," he replied, his voice steady. But it began to shake with his next words, and Sain wondered at it. "But if I did—_if I did_—I would only do it in the hopes that it would bring her back to us."

"Back to us?" Sain smiled. "She's here with us, Kent, in this very castle." But then he sobered. Pushing Kent's buttons was only fun when the mood was lighthearted and neither one of them was hurting. "I'm only teasing, Friend." He got to his feet and patted Kent's back twice. "If I thought that such a thing would help her, I would have already done it."

…**-…-…**

She hardly ate breakfast anymore, and when asked about it, she would only say that she did not feel like it, that she wasn't hungry, that she was busy and had work to do, letters to write, or people to see.

It did not take long for her to realize that if she poured all her energy into her duties—something she had always scolded Kent for doing—the day would be over quickly, and she could fall into bed an exhausted mess, or, on the nights when sleep refused to come, she could make her way through the darkened halls to the kitchen.

**…-…-…**

Kent stopped trying to find Lady Lyndis. He did not feel confident confronting her as Sain had; in fact, he was terrified that he would run into her with a bottle concealed beneath a cloak, and that he would, in anger or in fear for her safety, say or do something regretful.

In the years he had known her, he had only been mildly irritated with her on very few occasions, but he found that he felt a slow anger beginning to burn toward her. What she was doing to herself was selfish—and she had always been the most selfless person he had had been blessed to know. Didn't she know that she was hurting him—hurting everyone? People sometimes talked about her; rumors had begun to make their way around the castle, and though none of them were true—yet—he wondered if she knew the damage that could be done, not only to her reputation but to the entire canton, all because of her selfish carelessness.

As it always had done, any irritation with her soon faded, and even his anger fizzled out.

One evening, as he patrolled the corridors, he heard a voice coming from one of the vacant rooms. As he neared the door, he recognized the tone as belonging to Lady Lyndis, and for a moment he feared that she had taken to immoral acts as well as drinking. No voice answered hers, though, and he carefully opened the door.

He found her slumped over by one of the windows. She had opened it, and the cool evening air rushed through the gap as she leaned her elbows on the sill in front of her. She did not see him standing by the door, and instead continued to speak words that he did not quite understand. They were strung together in a way that reminded him of a song, and he knew that even if he tried, he would never forget it.

Her face was flushed and wet with tears, and Kent found that he could not be angry with her for her selfishness. Weren't people allowed to be selfish, now and then?

He left the room, closing the door behind him.

It was the next morning before he realized that the room Lyn had been in had once belonged to her mother.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Thank you for your patience yet again. This is part 4/12. Notes will be posted at the very end of the story.**  
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	5. Need

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Five: "Need"**

Madelyn's room was one that Lyndis began to recognize. She woke up there so often in the morning that she immediately knew the view from the window, and the plushness of the rug beneath her.

Her head always ached and her limbs felt as soft as fresh-baked bread when she woke up after an evening of drinking, but it didn't affect her as badly as it had in the beginning. Perhaps her body had gotten almost used to it.

"I'm sorry, Mama," she would say to the portrait hanging over the bed before she left the room. Her mother would be so ashamed of her, and her father…he would surely have disowned her for such behavior.

But maybe if she explained it, they would both understand.

She _needed_ it.

It wasn't as if she did it every day.

**…-…-…**

Illness fell upon her and left her stumbling down the halls as if she were already drunk. She was so out of it when Kent found her, that he immediately took her arm with a firm grip and led her to Chancellor Reissmann.

"She needs a break," he said insistently, waving a hand toward her red, runny nose and constantly-watering eyes; she was barely able to keep her eyes open, and her coughing came from so deep in her chest, he worried she would spit up blood. "A trip," he whispered, leaning in closer so that Lyndis could not hear him, "before she kills herself."

"A week," the chancellor said after a moment.

"_Two_."

It was no secret within the castle walls that the knight commander adored Lady Lyndis, but if Chancellor Reissmann thought that Kent was asking on Lyn's behalf because of feelings he had for her, he said nothing on the subject. Kent was fairly certain that even the aging man could see that his liege was overworked. She was pallid and as weak as a newborn. She swayed in his grasp.

"Fine, two weeks, but no more."

**…-…-…**

The preparations were made, and the next day, Lyndis left for a manor only a few miles from where the Cornwell mansion stood. Kent, a cook, and two maids went with her. A small group would not attract much attention.

For three days, she rested, much to her knight's relief. She was much better on the fourth day, but on the fifth, Kent heard the strange song he had listened to in the doorway of Madelyn's room at Castle Caelin.

When he opened her door, he found her in her nightgown, standing on the balcony outside her window. He did not know what to do, or say, but he closed the door behind him before making his way over to her.

The wind cut through her attire and she shivered, her voice quavering with tears and the cold as she sang softly to herself. He came to stand just behind her before she noticed his presence, and she turned around so quickly that she almost fell backward over the railing.

He reached out to steady her, and in the same motion, bent to pick up the nearly-empty bottle that sat by the toes of his boots.

Her fingertips reached out and brushed across the glass surface he held in his hand, and he realized her fingers were shaking. "Kent?" She sounded lost.

"Yes," he answered, and stepped back into the room.

She stumbled after him. "You don't un'erstand," she said. "I need it. Please give it back."

He shook his head. "No, Lady Lyndis, I'm afraid I cannot."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she came to stand in front of him. She placed one of her hands on his chest. "Please?" she tried again.

But when he shook his head at her a second time, she frowned, her eyebrows scrunching together.

"Give it to me," she said as sternly as she could manage. "I _order_ you to give it to me."

It was very rare that Kent ever disobeyed a direct order from Lady Lyndis, but he couldn't bring himself to help her destroy herself. Ignoring the problem had, he feared, made things worse. He would no longer deny that there was a problem.

She took hold of the bottle with both of her hands, and even as he lifted it above his head, she continued to try to hold on, all the while crying silently. He pried her fingers loose and she dropped to the floor in a messy pile.

While she sobbed there, alone, mumbling to herself, he went back to the balcony and poured the drink out into the garden below. His heart hurt to hear her crying; she had always tried so very hard to never shed tears in front of anyone that seeing her so out of sorts hurt worse than any physical pain he had ever been dealt.

And all over less than an inch of liquor.

"I hate you," she said when he returned and tried to get her to look at him. But then she buried her face in his chest and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Nooo," she moaned. "Noo, I don't hate you. I'm sorry, Kent, I'm sorry." When her sobs quieted, he lifted her and set her down on her bed. When he pulled the covers over her, she took his hand, and held onto it as if letting go meant she would surely drown.

"Is something wrong, Lady Lyndis?" he asked, even though he knew everything was wrong, and nothing at all was right anymore.

"Why do you hate me?" she asked him.

He frowned to hear her words, but forced a neutral expression onto his face as he brushed her hair out of her eyes lest she think him a liar. "I could never hate you."

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**...-...-...**

**Author Notes:**

I'm sure Reissmann would let her take a short break. After all, he ran the canton while she was with Eliwood and Hector. He's pro! More notes to come after the story is posted in its entirety. (Part 5/12.)**  
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	6. Weakness

**Soliloquy**  
**By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Six: "Weakness"**

The next few days passed by and Kent did not see his liege at all. She went riding from sunup to sundown each day. He let her be.

She always came back at night and went straight to bed.

Each day, he half-heartedly hoped that she would run away.

He could always chase after her, like Wallace had chased after Lady Madelyn and Lord Hassar.

And like Wallace, he would never force her to return.

But he did not think he could return without her, either.

**…-…-…**

Everyone had gone to bed, and she went to the cellar to get another bottle. She could hardly stand it—the vacation. She knew Kent had had her best interests in mind, and she did appreciate the time away from her duties, but she knew that in only a few more days, she would have to return to them all.

And how long before she got another vacation? Another year? Two years? With considerable effort, she uncorked the bottle in her hand and drank deeply from it. She found that the faster she drank it, the faster it began to work. There was really no use in savoring the taste, because it did not taste particularly good. After settling herself on one of the countertops, she took another drink.

She vaguely remembered speaking to Kent several nights previous, but she could not remember what either of them had said. He had mentioned nothing of it, so maybe he had only bid her a good evening.

Deep down, she knew better—he would know if she was not herself in an instant. He would know better than anyone.

She did not expect him to come into the kitchen, and so when he appeared, she was startled, and the bottle in her hands fell to the stone floor and shattered into a million pieces.

Suddenly, she wanted to cover up the mess, to convince him that she hadn't been drinking at all. Only those who were weak of spirit and of heart would think of drinking to block the pain, to forget, to escape, and Lyn had never been weak in any sense of the word.

He stepped around the glass, and she noticed that his feet were bare, and his pants were long and made of softer material. He was ready for bed.

She made to jump to the floor, but he reached out a hand and steadied her.

"Be careful," he warned.

She shrugged him off. "I'm not weak," she insisted, and if he wondered what broken glass had to do with weakness, he said not a word.

The ground was smooth from the alcohol, and when she landed, her feet slipped out from beneath her and she fell flat on her back, her skull cracking against the stones. She wasn't drunk enough not to feel the pain, but she did manage to laugh it off. Glass dug into her legs and feet, and with a sigh, Kent crouched down beside her to help clean up the mess.

But she would have no part of it.

She didn't need him. She didn't need _anybody_. She didn't need _anything_. She was strong, not weak like he thought she was. She had killed bandits, and morphs, and had even put her sword through Lord Lundgren. She'd learned to read and write. She could organize a ball.

She had power at her fingertips.

Her mouth opened to chastise him, to tell him to let her be, but his hands were gentle as he picked out the glass and wiped away the blood, and she found that she couldn't say anything at all.

Perhaps, she thought as she lay there in a daze, she had grown weak after all.

**…-…-…**

"Lady Lyndis," he murmured as he pulled her blankets up to her chin, "sleep well."

But she couldn't remember the last time she had slept well, and she told him so.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

I apologize for the delay in posting this. Also, I know there are a few questions that have been asked, and I just wanted to assure everyone that I fully intend to answer those questions. If you have any, be sure to ask. I'll probably do a video (and upload it at YouTube) to answer questions/elaborate on notes, because my tendinitis is not so kind to long sessions of writing. Hah.**  
**


	7. Seeking

**Soliloquy****  
By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Seven: "Seeking"**

"How was it?" Sain asked Kent when he returned, but when his friend shook his head, he sighed. "Not well, I take it."

"I don't know what to do."

"What _can_ you do?" Sain shrugged slightly. "Don't you think this is something she has to get through on her own?"

"I…" He didn't know. He wanted to help her more than anything. Wasn't there something—_anything_—that he could do for her? He must have looked troubled, for Sain put his hand on his shoulder.

"What is it?" he asked. Sain liked to talk, but nobody was a better listener. Nobody was so patient as to wait for Kent to find his voice and the right words.

"She said she needed it." A moment passed before he thought to clarify, "The alcohol." His eyes burned, though they did not shed or well up with tears. "I don't understand, Sain. I don't understand _why_ she would do this to herself."

"Then, my friend," he said gently, "you must find out why."

**…-…-…**

Kent had always been a quiet man. Sain had not known him his entire life, but he had always imagined that his friend had been much the same, even as a child.

To see helplessness in Kent's eyes hurt. He knew all too well what it was like to want to help, but be unable to. He knew the old phrase: _If you love someone, let them go_. Didn't everyone know it? He had let Priscilla go. And Fiora, he had let her go, too, if only because of his own duty to Caelin and to Lady Lyn.

And to Kent, who had nobody else.

He did not dare tell Kent to let Lyn go. He knew his friend loved her, had loved her for many years. The younger man loved deeply and fervently—with all his heart. It was for this reason that he had so few friends; he never cared for anyone lightly. In all Kent's life, Sain doubted he'd had any passing fancies.

Sometimes, a person had to let the one they loved go.

But Sain worried that if Kent let Lyndis go, they would all lose her.

It would be better if he held on.

Maybe they could bring her back.

**…-…-…**

Farina arrived from Ostia with a few letters and the driving winter snow.

"Wow, you look ten years older than the last time I saw you!" she said to Kent nonchalantly, in the tone she had always used during the war to tease him with.

But he knew she was right; he did look older. Since he had learned of Lyn's dreadful secret, he had done little but worry. He knew she only drank a few days a week, but it was still too much. She had begun to slip up, leaving Madelyn's room and tripping down the halls, or drinking in Caelin's kitchen as if she thought they were back at the quiet country mansion by Cornwell.

When Sain said nothing, she tilted her head to the side. "Is something…wrong?" she asked quietly, as if she thought maybe someone had died.

Sain laughed nervously and steered Farina away from his friend. "Oh, nothing of consequence!" he told her. "But you know how Kent is, he worries over everything!"

**…-…-…**

Lyn stopped trying to hide the bottles from Kent. Sometimes, if she felt particularly vindictive or upset, she would uncork it right in front of him before taking a long swallow.

He already knew that she did it, anyway.

It wasn't as if it would change anything.

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**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Got this one out a bit faster, and hopefully the rest of this 'fic will be posted by the end of the month. Keep your thoughts coming in reviews, if you have any. I intend to do extensive notes on this, though most likely in video format. My favorite chapter is the next one, by the way.**  
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	8. Poison

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

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**…-…-…**

**Chapter Eight: "Poison"**

The first time Lyn openly drank in front of him, he had been too shocked to do or say anything. His chest ached so badly to see it that he wasn't sure his tongue was working properly enough to form words, anyway.

He watched her walk by him without trying to stop her.

What would he say? He could not say that it would all be okay, because he didn't know that it would be, and he didn't even know what was wrong with her. But Sain was right—he needed to find out why she drank. If he knew—maybe—_maybe_—he could help her somehow.

He waited, unsure of what to do, hesitant to speak in case his words were not the right ones, unconfident in his ability to help at all.

Weeks passed, and he tried to ignore it when he saw it happening right in front of him. His teeth ached from pressing them tightly together to keep words from making things worse.

It was a quiet evening when he saw her walking toward him, bottle in hand. The rumors would ruin her, didn't she know? Didn't she understand the things people were beginning to say about her, terrible things that he knew weren't true, and horrible things he prayed would never come to pass? Couldn't she see what she was doing to herself?

She uncorked the bottle and put it to her lips, drinking deeply from it only a foot from where he stood. His chest hurt, but only part of it was from sorrow; he found that he was also becoming angry with her, again. Was she trying to hurt him? Did she do it on purpose?

Without caring that she might choke, he ripped the bottle from her mouth. It was easy to get away from her—she had lost a lot of what physical strength she once possessed, and, judging from her wide eyes, she had not expected him to retaliate.

She spluttered, coughing for a moment before she glared at him. "What was that for?" she asked.

"Why are you doing this?" He held up the bottle but backed away lest she try to take it again. "Why are you hurting yourself this way?" He couldn't help but notice how thin she was, and how listless and limp her hair had become. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought she was being poisoned.

"I'll just go get another," she said. "I'll go right now." She turned around, but not before saying, "You can't stop me, Kent. You can't."

His hand clamped down over her shoulder, holding her firmly in place. She squirmed in his grip but only twisted to glare at him. "Let me go," she insisted. "You have _no right_—"

"I thought you hated poison," he said to her softly. "You said once that you thought it was an underhanded, deceitful tactic. You said that it hurt. But here you are…" He swallowed, and shook his head before he took his hand from her shoulder to brush lightly across her cheek. His voice shook, "Here you are, poisoning yourself."

**…-…-…**

She did not drink that night, nor the night after. Her dreams were filled with Sacae, and with fleeting images of her mother and father. And Kent. Always Kent.

It was always the same dream, and she dreamed it over and over again each night: She saw her people suffering from the poison. Her mother, throwing up blood, and her father, swaying on his feet so unsteadily that she was certain a light breeze would knock him down. They were all so confused, and so, _so sick_.

She could see the Taliver rushing in from the south, and her stomach ached terribly. She felt bile rise in her throat before her stomach relieved her of a nonexistent breakfast. As she panted for breath, she would feel a calloused hand gently touching her face.

"Here you are, poisoning yourself," Kent always said.

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Feedback would be very much appreciated, as always. Notes will be posted after the last chapter!**  
**


	9. Lost

**Soliloquy**  
**By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter Nine: "Lost"**

"I suppose you could hold her," Sain said. " I suppose we could watch her, keep a vigil out. We could bolt the cellar door. We could call a locksmith to create a new lock, and give the only key over to us." He looked over at Kent sorrowfully. "I'm not good at this," he admitted.

Kent watched him carefully, but said nothing. He only bowed his head in defeat.

"I was hoping you might know," he said again. "You always know what to do."

"And you," Kent said dryly, "always know what to say."

But neither of them knew how to help Lady Lyndis.

**…-…-…**

The next time she picked up a bottle, she went to the gardens. They were dark, and gentle and quiet, and she felt more at home in them than anywhere else in the castle.

In her drunken stupor, she fell from the swing and struck her head. It didn't knock her out, but it stung, and she rubbed her forehead as she struggled to get to her feet. It was cold, and the snow had numbed her bare feet.

She heard Kent's voice again.

"_Here you are, poisoning yourself."_

"I don't want to," she argued. "It's not what I want."

"_Here you are, poisoning yourself."_

"No," she said, tears coming to her eyes. "No, I'm not. You don't understand!"

"_Here you are, poisoning yourself."_

Her hands clasped over her ears, but she heard him still, and finally she broke down, burying her face in her nightgown as she sat in the snow. "I need it!" she cried in the stillness. "I don't want it, but I need it!"

"_Here you are, poisoning yourself_."

In the hall the day he'd spoken those words to her, his touch had been gentle, and his eyes, warm and caring.

She shivered, and stumbled to her feet. "I don't want to," she said, sniffling as she turned her head to the sky. A few flakes floated down gently from the heavens. She sang softly to herself, though the words were more spoken than sung.

**…-…-…**

She had gotten better, Kent noticed. Not entirely, no, but she went longer without sneaking alcohol from the cellar. He wondered if his words had had an effect on her at all, of if the decision had been hers all along.

Two weeks passed before he found her inebriated again.

She was looking out the window, and when he stepped closer, he realized she was singing, again. Her voice had made its way into his dreams, and even though he didn't know the words to her song, he knew that it meant something to her—perhaps more than he could ever understand.

She stopped when he approached, but did not look at him, instead opting to view the full moon outside. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Sorry you're seeing me like this."

"The song you were singing," he said. "What was it?"

She still did not look at him. "We sang it," she whispered, "for death."

Taken aback by her words, he bit his lip and did not reply.

She reached out to touch the glass in front of her. "When someone died…we sang it to guide them. If we didn't, their soul'd be lost forev'r."

How different from the beliefs of the church of St. Elimine, he thought! "Whose soul are you singing for?" he asked her thoughtfully.

She turned sad eyes to his. "Mine," she said simply.

**…-…-…**

When he found her drinking after that night, he oftentimes stopped to talk to her. It rattled him to the core to find that she sang for her own lost soul—that she looked at herself and felt lost. It broke his heart.

If he could guide her, he would. But he feared that no matter how brightly he shone, she would not be able to see him.

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Bonus points if you can guess where the inspiration for the last sentence came from. **  
**


	10. Realization

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter Ten: "Realization"**

She felt better with Kent near her when she had alcohol in her system. She knew he wouldn't let anything bad happen to her. Once, Sain had even come to pay her a visit, and a few times, both men had come together.

Every time, she would ask them if they hated her. If they were mad at her.

But never once did she ask for their help.

Instead, she sang her song to herself in the hours before either of them could show up. She was doing better, but she worried that if she didn't continue singing, she would remain lost.

Everyone died eventually, she knew. After her death, who would sing for her?

**…-…-…**

"Kent?" she asked him one night. It was a good night for her, despite her drunkenness. Though her posture was poor and her eyelids heavy, she had not once cried.

"Yes?" She often questioned him when he came to see her, and he waited patiently for her to ask of him what she would.

"Do you love me?"

It came as a shock—she had never asked him that before. At first, he was not sure how to answer it, nor did he know how she would react to an answer of any sort. But in the end, he decided that honesty was the best thing, and he let himself gently steer her toward the bed before he answered.

She got in herself, and he pulled the blankets over her shoulders before he spoke, his voice gentle. "Yes," he said, leaning down to press a kiss against her forehead. "I do."

She was silent for a long moment, but then she smiled at him—a crooked, innocent smile that he had not seen in a long, long time. Tears pricked at his eyes.

"Thank you," she said, and his heart felt as if it would burst.

**…-…-…**

He awoke in the middle of the night to her presence as she pressed her face against his chest and wept. He was awake instantly, and as he put his arms around her, he wondered what could have caused this particular breakdown. She had never come to his room before.

Gently, he petted her hair and asked her what the matter was. She did not smell of liquor as she had most evenings, and he wondered if that meant she was mostly—or completely—sober.

"I'm sorry," she said to him. "I'm sorry. I'm trying so hard, but—" her voice broke and she hiccupped before she managed to finish her sentence, "—I can't do it alone, Kent, I just can't! I can't do it at all."

He swallowed hard and held her tighter until she calmed herself. "Can't do what?" he asked after her sobs had become only sniffles.

"Anything." Her words hit him like a heavy rock, and he bit his lip as he leaned down to kiss her hair. "I can't do any of it anymore."

"Is that why you drank?" he asked her gently.

"It was an accident at first," she admitted, "but it helped me forget." She pulled away from him and wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her nightgown before speaking again. "I don't _want_ to poison myself anymore."

"How can I help?"

His voice was earnest, and it caused a few fresh tears to make their way down her face.

"I don't know," she said. "I don't know."

He thought for a moment. "Why can't you do it anymore? Anything?"

She hiccupped again. "It's so hard," she said. "All the lying, all of the formalities. I never have time to myself. I don't even have time for…" she paused, but then continued after a long moment, "you."

"You're lonely," he guessed, and she nodded, so he tried another. "Do you miss Sacae?"

She threw herself at him. "I never wanted this title," she said. "I never wanted this castle, or this life. I never did. _I never did._"

He held her, stroked her hair, and murmured reassurances to her even though moments later he couldn't recall what exactly it was he had said.

"I know," he told her when she had finished. "When you took it, I wondered…if you had changed your mind for some reason."

"I did." Her admission was so quiet he could scarcely hear it. "I would have gone home, but… So many people had been counting on me. Grandfather, Wil, Sain, Florina… Heath… And," she said, her hands clenching the fabric of his shirt, "you. I couldn't let everyone down by running away."

He should have known, he realized. _He should have known_! Lyn had always been so selfless, putting the needs of others above her own.

"We would have understood," he told her softly.

Her eyes were red-rimmed. "I was afraid that you wouldn't. What kind of person picks a place over the people they care about?"

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Almost to the end! I apologize in advance for any corniness that might come in the future.


	11. Honor

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter Eleven: "Honor"**

When Kent entered her rooms a few days later, she was sober. She was not weak, Kent had reminded her. If she put her mind to it, she could do anything she wanted. His confidence in her had helped immensely, and even though she had been sorely tempted to go fetch a bottle, she had resisted.

He had said that, if she felt she couldn't help herself, she could come to him, or to Sain, and that they would do their best to help her through it, but that if she couldn't, he understood, and he would forgive her.

She smiled at him and made to leave her bed, but he stopped her with a shake of his head and his fingertips on her knee. She got back under the blankets.

"I came to see how you were doing," he said, "and to ask you a question."

"A question?" she fretted. "What sort of question?"

He looked almost uncomfortable. "I know that you are willing to try and make it through this, my lady, but…I think it best for you if you…"

"If I what?" It was not like him to beat around the bush.

He straightened. "The other night, you said that you were…lonely and that you wanted to go home, did you not?" When she nodded, he continued. "Would you consider abdicating?"

She stared at him, her mouth agape, for a long while. "You want me to leave?" she asked him, her heart stinging.

"O-Oh, no! Of course not!" he said hurriedly, a light flush appearing across his cheeks. "But if you abdicate, you could leave this canton in the capable hands of Lord Hector or Lord Eliwood, and you would not have to be saddled with," he hesitated, "unwanted responsibilities."

She blinked. "I…suppose I would have to think about it," she said solemnly. "I- I mean, I want to go, but…"

"I understand," he said, and gave her a small smile. "Let me know of your decision when you make it."

**…-…-…**

He wished he had thought to visit Lady Lyndis in the evenings much earlier. It was a tight schedule for him, but if he had made the time, he wondered if she would have ever gotten so lonely. Two weeks had passed since he'd suggested abdication to her, and he'd only caught her drinking once.

She'd handed the quarter-empty bottle to him and, without protesting, had let him lead her back to her room as per usual. He was confident that she would get better with time.

But, he could not help but hope that she would abdicate and go back to Sacae. Even if she chose to go alone, he knew that her chances of happiness and health were on the plains, not in a castle.

She found him early in the morning on his way to the stables, and stopped him for a moment.

"What about Heath? And Wil? And Sain?" she asked. "What will they do?"

He paused. "I did talk to Wil a little," he admitted. "He said that he was surprised it took you so long to think to abdicate, and that when you leave, he will resign and return home to Pherae. Heath will probably stay here—and happily so. Sain…will likely leave, to be a mercenary…or so he says."

"And you?" she asked gently, her fingertips brushing against his arm.

"I…"

"I talked to Chancellor Reissmann," she told him. "He wants me to appoint someone as steward."

Kent swallowed hard. How could he answer such a question? Did he have any plans? He didn't, but that didn't mean he'd want to be saddled to Caelin for the rest of his life. Not when he had a chance at something more.

"Lyndis," he said. "You know I said that I would stay with you always, and even though I said it long ago, it still holds true."

"Kent…"

He looked off to the side, his face a bit red. "I apologize for being presumptuous, but…if you will allow it, I would be honored to go with you."

His heart thudded in his chest, and her silence made him ache with a terrible anticipation.

"Milady?" he finally asked, and his voice came out sounding stressed.

She stepped forward, and without a word, wrapped her arms around him tightly. She let her cheek rest against his chest and she smiled. "I'm honored that you want to go with me," she said, finally, and he wondered why it was that her voice wavered when she said it.

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

Almost to the end! One more chapter.**  
**


	12. Everything

**Soliloquy  
By: Manna

* * *

**

**…-…-…**

**Chapter Twelve: "Everything"**

The ceremony didn't last long. Only two hours, and Caelin was no longer hers to control. "I'm leaving it in your capable hands," she said to Lord Hector before punching his shoulder. "Don't screw it up."

He scoffed, and looked down at Florina, whose hand was resting on her swollen belly. "She won't let me screw it up," he pointed out.

**…-…-…**

The balcony was huge, but she managed to find Kent standing a few feet away from the railings. "Afraid of heights?" she asked him as she approached.

He flushed lightly and inclined his head. "Of falling," he admitted.

She smiled. "There are some things I will miss about this place."

He turned to her as if he expected her to continue. He was a good listener…he always had been. If she had confided in him much sooner, perhaps a lot of hurt could have been avoided.

"The garden, and this balcony, and the pillows. I hated them at first, but I think they've grown on me."

He gave her a small smile and said, "You can take the pillows with you if you like."

She patted his arm. "Maybe I will."

"How are you doing?" he asked her after a few moments of silence had passed peaceably between them.

She took his hand and held it in her own before bringing it to her lips to lay a kiss upon his knuckles. "Well," she said, holding his palm against her cheek. "I have been too busy preparing to go home, and too excited knowing I'm going back to do so much as _think_ about anything else.

"I'm glad," he said, smiling at her enthusiasm before he pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head.

**…-…-…**

"Lady Lyndis?" Sain smiled at her from the doorway to her room. Her things were packed, and the castle staff bustled back and forth to carry it to a wagon that waited outside. It was nothing more than an old farm wagon, but it would suit their purpose well enough.

"What is it?" she asked, approaching him.

"I wanted to say…"

"Goodbye?"

"I could never say goodbye to a beauteous liege such as yourself," he teased, but his expression turned serious as he knelt before her and took her hand, pressing a light kiss against her fingers.

She remained speechless, waiting, he supposed, for him to speak.

"I am terrible with goodbyes," he said, and he could not help the soft quiver that invaded his voice. "And so I will not say goodbye, but that I hope to see you again, someday." He bowed his head. "Lady Lyndis, it has been an honor and…a pleasure to server under you these last few years." He wanted to say other things, _important things_, about how she had affected him—affected everyone!—and that he would never forget her kindness, or her smile.

But she fell to her own knees in front of him and squeezed him so tightly he could scarcely breathe. It felt nice, and he blinked back tears. Oh, how he would miss her!

"Lyn," he said, his voice strained. "Thank you."

She kissed his cheek. "You will come to see us someday, won't you?" she asked.

"Fear not," he said jovially, getting to his feet before helping her to hers. His voice still wavered as he spoke, but it was almost back to normal. "Your faithful Sain will make time to pay you a visit, surely."

**…-…-…**

Months later, Kent awoke to the sound of Lyndis singing. It was the same song, the one she had said the Lorca had sung to guide the souls of the dead.

She stopped only when he wrapped his arms around her from behind and pressed his lips against her neck.

"For whom were you singing?" he asked, letting his chin rest atop her head.

She sank back against him and sighed. "Promise you won't laugh or think me foolish?"

"Well…"

She jabbed back with her elbow playfully, and he chuckled. "I promise, I promise."

"I was singing for Lord Lundgren, for Uhai and General Eagler, for Linus and Lloyd, for Brendan, for Leila…"

"For Nergal?"

She twisted in his grasp to poke at his sides. "Never!" she said. "I could sing for years and it'd never be enough!"

He chuckled, but pushed her hands away from his sides. "How are you feeling today?" he asked, as he had asked every day since their arrival in Sacae.

"Stronger," she said. "I think I can help with the work today."

"Don't overdo it," he cautioned.

"_Some_ of the work, then," she said. "But twice as much as yesterday." She knew he wouldn't argue with her. "I'm much better today, I assure you. Remember, it's been a couple of months since I've had any episodes."

She had initially had some trouble adjusting to the complete lack of alcohol, the worst being unstoppable shaking. But Kent had been with her every step of the way, and after a few months, those symptoms had seemingly disappeared.

"Do you ever…crave it?" he asked, pulling away from her to get ready to work.

"I'm happy here," she said, blinking at him. "Everything I want is right here with me."

"And everything you need?" he asked.

"Is you," she answered, taking his hand.

* * *

**…-…-…**

**Author Notes:**

A few notes on alcoholism:

1.) It can happen to anyone under the right circumstances.

2.) It occurred in _every time period_.

3.) The only way to recover from alcoholism is to stay away from alcohol. Lyndis could escape it entirely by going back to Sacae, but we do not have that same luxury in modern times. You see it every time you go to the grocery store.

4.) If someone you know is trying to quit drinking, the most important thing you can do is offer a shoulder, a listening ear, and your love. It is not something easily overcome, least of all alone.

I broke this into short chapters, not to be evil, but because I felt that it fit the flow of the story and helped show time as it passed. Thank you all very much for reading. I always appreciate feedback, and this story is no exception. I read each and every review, and hold them all close to my heart.


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